Okay, okay, so I managed to drag myself out of bed to go to school, where someone had started a rumour that I had swine flu and that it was highly contagious. As you would expect, this did not prevail a good reaction from my fellow Year 8 peers.
Skipping that traumatic day at school, (in which Scott Jenkins in Year 10 offered me a turnip. He should be shot, because a. he thinks that swine flu turns you into a pig and b. he thinks that you cure it by feeding them pigs favourite foods. Since when is turnip pigs favourite food anyway..?), I hung out at Tally's house all afternoon preparing for the rave.
Tally predicted that the whole school were likley to turn up, and that we should re-locate to the school sports hall, which is huge. Izzie asked how on earth would she get permission to do that, and Tally replied that she had, "connections."
Ten minutes on the phone, and it was arranged. Tally wouldn't reveal anything about her connection, but said we were free to take our organic paper plates and jumbo packs of Wotsits up to the hall now.
Have potentially life threatening back ache from walking half a mile to school carrying half of the Sainsbury's confectionary aisle.
We're all in the sports hall, decorating. I have to draw arrows on the road outside to show people the way to the door. How patronizing is that? I told Tally that this may possibley offend the "Special Needs Class", i.e the Retards, for example Scott Jenkins.
Tally agreed but sent me out to do it anyway. Is she trying to kill me or something??
Re-entered sports hall, and thought I had taken a wrong turn and ended up in a huge American neon 80's rave/prom/party. The DJ was already setting up in the corner, but Tally was in a stand off with Ben Noakes in Upper Sixth, who was argueing that the rave was clashing with his end of term cricket training, and that his team were very put down.
On the contrary, they looked positevley excited by the idea of being at a party, (this tells you something about the sort of people that play cricket), and wanted to know if they were invited.
Tally said sure, and Izzie rolled her eyes dramatically..
Izzie conferring with DJ over which songs to play when. Am slightly worried as Izzie has disturbing Death Metal Moments. Tally is no better. She thinks that anything newer than Queen is no use listening too, and that Britney Spears is the devil in a wig.
The chavs won't be best pleased.
Have run out of things to organise. Asked Tally when R-Patz was arriving and said he was a celeb, so would be fashionabley late.
Party begins. Hall already half full of the entire sporting poplation of George Abbot, and the chavs. Troop of Year 7's with "I Heart Rob Pattinson" T-shirts on are entering now.
Just broke up fight between Scott Jenkins and Angus Rowe, (midget nerd with unfortunate ginger hair and freckles.) Apparently was over who saw the Diet Coke first. These ginger geeks have very short tempers.
Party going well, but no sign of fashionabley late celeb. Asked Tally how late fashionabley late was, and she said "late."
Wild crazy dancing going on, and there are so many people here that I don't even recognise half of them. Swear I saw Mrs Prescott, (48, bad perm, BO issue,) dancing with Mr Piper, (mail man, renouned pervet, also known as "Pervert Piper,"), to Christina Agulaira.
Escaped mobs of angry lower school girls demanding to know where their darling Robert was. Just missed getting a black eye, (Poppy Leatheram hit Natalie Crawford by mistake,). Am telling Tally that this is getting out of hand.
Rob Pattinson has arrived, with fleet of armed security gaurds who just stood at the door glowering at everyone!!!
Rob Pattinson hustled from room, sporting two black eyes, and a deep cut down his cheek. Apparently we are in deep sh*t, according to his security gaurd.
On the way out I asked him if he had a good time being mobbed by girls violently, and he just shut his eyes and shook his head. Amazing bonding moment with fit celeb has occured! Although, his hair is mank and he smells weird.
Police arrive to break up party. Has been going strong all night with more people arriving all the time. The DJ ran out of songs half way through, and ended up borrowing Mr Pipers iPod, so we were raving to the 118 Album, until someone found some more music.
Never have I been so relieved to hear Britney again.
Danced with numorous boys, not sure who half of them were again. Didn't dance with Jason Pink, (he was too busy snogging his girlfriend Harriet Jones in Year 11, president of the school council and editor of the George Abbot News).
Might have accidently bumped heads with Mike Harris while I reached for another prawn cocktail Quaver, but that's the closest I came to a boys head. Oh, well.